Hear A Tiger Cry
by Seroci
Summary: Neglection and love. Love and neglection. It can drive you to insanity. Just make sure you have someone to catch you.


A/N: There are so many Percy/Oliver slashes, but the way I see them, they're friends. Good friends, perhaps. Best friends, I dunno. So, I wrote a very deep friendship story about Percy and Oliver, narrated by Percy. I love these first person fics, can't ya tell? ^_^ 

All credit goes to Rowling and my keyboard.   
  
  
  


**~Hear A Tiger Cry~**

  
  
  
  
  


He could fly. So perfectly, so easily. He wasn't there one second, there the next, to save the team from losing. When they were so close, so sure they would score, and they threw the ball, like a bolt of lightning he'd appear, hit the ball away. 

This was the first game I had ever really watched. Quidditch had never been a real fancy of mine, and I often had the luxury of staying alone in the Gryffindor Common Room..........while he flew. 

I never took a heart to Quidditch, but I took a heart to flight. To be like the birds, up and free.....but I could never fly. Not of my sorry life depended on it. I dropped out of Hooch's classes, stayed behind to work on what needed to get done. That was almost always nothing. 

He darted past me in a lap around the stadium. I doubt many people knew why he took frequent breaks from the goal. He told me, though. It helped him relax, keep his mind on the game, to just fly around. It loosened what tension he had, and if I knew him, he was one tense Keeper. 

I sighed and made my way through the cheering Gryffindor crowd. My crowd. I protected them, I made sure they were safe, because I was Prefect. 

But I could never join them cheering in a Quidditch game. It reminded me of my own incapabilities. How I could never fly, and I never knew why. I was always grounded, kept from the pleasure that all of them, especially he, got out of it. 

A roar of cheers erupted from the crowd behind me. I had to turn. I could just barely see Harry flying above the stadium, holding his arm high above his head. 

And then he, Oliver Wood, flew at him, took him by the neck and shoved his face into his shoulder in an awkward embrace. There was only one assumption I could make: Gryffindor had won. As the rest of Gryffindor's team flocked Harry and Wood, they sank to the ground, and no one was left in the air. It was clear that we had won. 

I smiled, mostly for Oliver. This had been the one thing he wanted to to since he first arrived at this school. He had had his heart set on winning the Quidditch Cup, and year after year was filled with defeat. With each passing failure he spent more time on his broom, in the air, with Angelina and a Quaffle. He spent more time practicing than anything else, and detention followed in his shadow as he missed assignment after assignment. 

And now, at long last, he had won. His dream and come true, in his last year at Hogwarts. In our last year at Hogwarts. 

Had it really been seven entire years? Seven years of friendship...... 

The friendship was gone. Almost completely. He spent hours on end with Angelina, usually on the Quidditch field, but I caught them on the roof of the castle, once, staring at the stars. And kissing. I should've been happy for him, I was happy for him somewhere inside me, but a pang of jealousy swept over me each time I saw him with her. Or anyone else. 

He laughed with his team at the dining table, joked with Fred and George in the halls. It was almost like he had forgotten me, who I was. Forgotten that we had once been wonderful friends. He was around my little brothers, now. 

Damn Oliver Wood.   
  
  


* * * 

  
  
  
  


She stood in front of me, tears pouring out of her eyes. I knew what she was going to say before she even opened her mouth. 

" I'm sorry, Percy...." Her voice cracked. " It's....over." 

I was numb. I had been expecting the blow, knew it was coming. But I still felt my heart break. I was amazed that it hurt so much but was so quiet. 

I nodded, as if in agreement. " I know." Her kisses hadn't been the same this year, or even last. I played off every negative thought I had about her, I always said she loved me no matter what. But, I guess I had always known that it wasn't true. 

Maybe it was, some time long ago.....she would be only a memory now. 

I left her in the Common Room before she could say that she hoped we would still be friends, because I kenw my heart would break all over again should I hear those words come out of the perfect mouth I used to kiss. 

I stepped outside. Snow swirled in small, criss-crossing patterns. The Christmas cheer was in the air. Just the way the snow covered everything from the castle to the pines in the forest, it all made me think of Christmas. 

And how much I was going to miss it. 

I stepped through a small snow drift at the bottom of the stairs. It looked like late at night, with stars winking in an inky blackness and a cold, bitter wind snapping around me. I knew it wasn't even dinner time. 

A dark shadow was in the air, in the stadium. Even in the cold and heartache, I knew it was Wood. It was always Wood. Always him who spent so much time on his broom. 

I needed to talk to him. Talk, yeah right, more like complain. Where had our friendship gone? Had he been the same boy he was a few years ago, he would be holding me through this break up, numb as I was to it. But numb or not, my heart still hurt in every way imaginable. 

I entered the locker room, continued through it to the stadium. He was above me, at the goal he usually guarded. The Quaffle was tucked under his arm, and he threw it as far as he could across the field. It surprised me that the ball flew almost clear across the stadium before turning and heading straight for the Keeper again. 

Oliver hovered, and even from the ground I could see he was tense. Just like he always was on the broom. He swerved as the Quaffle made for the left hoop at a speed I was sure he would miss. He brought his broom in front of the red ball, reached out with his hand, took the ball in a firm grip, threw it across the field again. He repeated this for how long, I wasn't sure, until, nearly frozen, I called up to him. He looked down at me, waved, made one last save before bringing his broom down and touching the ground. 

" Percy! What're you doing here?" he asked breathlessly as he walked towards me. The Quaffle wiggled in his arm and he took out his wand, flicked it, and the ball went still. 

" Walking," I muttered, rubbing my hands together. 

He eyed me closely, then nodded, accepting that answer. 

" Good practice?" I asked him. 

He started towards the locker room. " Fairly good. Wind feels good in the face." 

I stared at him in shock. He had to be the only soul on earth that liked the bitter wind in the face. 

We left the biting cold as we entered the locker room. 

Oliver set the Quaffle down and ran the sleeve of his robe over his forehead to wipe away the sweat. 

" How long were you out there?" I asked. 

He pulled off his robe and stood in his Quidditch sweater, pants, and guards. " Two and half hours, I'm guessing." 

" But you won the Cup. Why are you still practicing?" 

" You're so dumb, Perce," he said, giving me his famous look. A smile crept onto his face. " Is dinner ready?" 

I sighed. That was Oliver for you. Quidditch, food, more Quidditch. I knew people who found it amazing that he ate so much and stayed so thin. He _was_ a Quidditch player, one of the best I'd seen, and every ounce he consumed was spent on Quidditch. 

" Or, you could not answer me. That works, too." He grabbed his robe, opened his locker. The inside of the door was covered with pictures of Angelina, all smiling and waving at Oliver. There was a picture of his mother and father, one of Harry and him holding up the Cup, and one...... 

My blood stopped flowing, eyes locked on one picture. It was of us, when we were in our first year. We both had our shirts off and were flexing our muscles, comparing our strength. 

" Percy?" I was vaguely aware of him watching me with concern. Then he laughed when he realized what I was looking at. He removed the picture from his locker. 

" You.....still have that?" I asked. 

He nodded. " Yeah." He chuckled as his pictureself made my pictureself squeeze his bicep. " We were incredibly weak then." 

" Really." I eyed him. " Who do you think's stronger now?" 

He didn't answer. Only handed me the picture. 

We both knew he was stronger. He had always been stronger than me, and playing Quidditch non-stop really helped. Of course he was stronger than me. 

" So....why are you here?" Oliver slipped off his arm guards. 

" I....." He knew something was wrong, I knew he knew. " Penelope....." 

" Say no more," he said, voice muffled by his sweater. He pulled it all the way off, chucked it into his locker. 

I hesitated when he reached above him, grabbed the top of his locker, pulled himself up in a pull-up type fashion, and reached into the very top compartment. His muscles, though they barely showed, rippled lightly under his skin. He grabbed something, a bottle, before dropping to the ground gracefully. Always gracefully. 

" She cast you aside, right?" He opened the bottle, squeezed its white content in his hand, rubbed it over his arms and neck. His fingers expertly massaged the lotion into his already smooth skin. 

I nodded. " And....Oliver?" 

He grabbed a white button-down shirt from his locker, slipped it on. " What?" 

I swallowed. " Have you ever.....had your heart broken?" 

He stopped buttoning his shirt, brilliant eyes watching me. " Yes..." he said slowly. " But I'd prefer we don't talk about it." 

" Yeah." I understood. Oliver had never been one to speak of his emotions, like I did. 

He grabbed his Gryffindor tie, drapped it over his shoulders. " She wasn't right for you, you know. Oh, I know she was also a prefect..." He paused, attempting to tie his tie. " How does this go?" 

I rolled my eyes. " Seriously, your seventh year, and you don't know how to tie your tie?" 

He looked down sheepishly. 

I took the tie in my hands and worked through it quickly. " Simple." 

" Had you gone slower, I might have learned," he snapped playfully. " Thanks." He pulled on the standard Hogwarts blue, sleeveless sweater. " Okay, but anyway, Penny was just.....I won't say out of your league, but.....not right." 

" Your vocabulary is astounding." 

" I know. I work hard on it." 

" Right." I sighed again. " Are you happy?" 

He pulled his robe on. " What?" 

I shrugged. " You won the Cup the other day." 

" That.....well, yeah." He sounded hesitant. Not sure. " Yeah, I'm glad we won." 

" But?" 

He looked at me. " But what?" 

" Nevermind." 

He sighed and sat on a bench. " This is our last year." His eyes wandered around the locker room. 

" Yeah," I agreed. " So?" 

" Well, you'll go on to the Ministry or Gringotts or some other fancy, organized profession, and I'll play Quidditch and......." He shook his head, set it in his hands. 

I sat next to him. 

" I can't believe Hogwarts is almost behind us." He laughed lightly. " I'm going to miss it." 

" Me too." I swallowed. " Are we going to keep in touch?" 

He nodded. " Of course." 

And there it was, in his eyes, the one thing I had missed for years. 

" I'm really sorry about Penelope," he whispered. 

" It's okay," I answered. 

A smile crept over his face." You know.....I'm thinking of proposing to Angelina.....after we get out of school.....will you be there?" 

My heart stopped. " Isn't that a special moment you want to have alone with Angelina?" 

" Some people would think so.....but I don't." 

I sat next to him. 

" I just think you should be there, and it won't bother her. I just think you should be there." He put his arm around my shoulders. " If she says yes, will you.....be our best man?" 

" Well, duh." I smiled. " But....she's two years younger than you." 

He nodded. " I know. I took that into consideration. I'll propose, we'll wait until she gets out of school, and then we'll have it." He lowered his voice. " I'm sorry. I shouldn't be talking about this..." 

" No, it's okay." 

He gave me a skeptical look. 

" I mean it," I assured him. 

His smile grew. " Thanks, Percy." 

I looked back at his open locker, watching a photographed Angelina dance around an old tree, followed closely by Oliver. He caught her by her waist, fingers probbing her stomach. She screeched in laughter and fell to the ground, Oliver landed next to her. They were both laughing, and she had tears crawling out of her eyes. Tears of joy, tears of love. 

I used to see those tears in the eyes of Penelope. I saw them when we laugh, saw them when we kissed, saw them all the time. She cried love for me, I held her tears in my heart, kept her close to me. 

And now where was she? 

" I can't believe you're going to ask," I whispered. 

He answered, " Me niether," before standing and closing his locker. " Do you want to head back?" 

I shook my head. " Not just yet." 

There was a long pause. I could feel him watching me, watching me like he always did. Silent, eyes on me, taking in detail after detail. I had stopped trying to hide my feelings from him long ago, because he could always know what was going on, and I was never ashamed. 

Ashamed. That's what I was. My heart hurt, it was broken, and the tears almost slipped out of my eyes. I kept them back before he could see them. This once, just this once, I wished he was leave. Leave me to hurt, leave me to cry and wallow in my agony. I wished he would be blind, just this once, just this once! I didn't want him seeing me like this. See me, perfect Percy, hurting like this. 

Hurting to the point where I could die. 

I struggled to keep from looking at him. Struggling, struggling, I was always struggling! Struggling with him, Oliver Wood. My friend, my companion, how could I be around him and be comfortable? There was something about him, maybe his eyes, the windows to his heart and soul......his eyes, how they watched me and understood me. I didn't deserve to be understood, not by the angel that was him. 

He knelt next to me. " Are you okay?" 

I nodded. It was the only answer I could give. 

His hand fell on my shoulder. " Will you be all right if I leave?" 

I nodded again. 

A cloud of silence fell over us again, uncomfortable silence. I could almost hear his heart beat, because I couldn't hear mine. 

" Do you want anything to eat?" His voice was soft. Caring. 

Oh, Oliver, stop being this! Stop being my friend, just stop! 

" No," I muttered, shook my head. " No." 

" Take care of yourself," he said, " and don't do anything stupid." He rose, then asked, " Will you be here?" 

I nodded. I wasn't about to move, not when I hurt like this. 

" I'll come back." He turned to leave. 

I couldn't let him go! Not when I needed him to be there! Angel he was, so seraphic it hurt me deep in my gut, I needed him. Pain or no pain, pride or none, who cared? 

" Oliver?" I stood swiftly, kept my head bowed. 

He stopped. 

" Why do we hurt?" I asked. I shivered. Cold swept through me, I shook. The tears began to slip down my face, hot tears. 

" Why do we rejoice?" His answer was a question. 

I turned away from him, lifted my head. " On the whole bloody planet, why me? Why did she choose me?" 

" Do you want the truth?" 

I heard him walk towards me as I nodded. 

" She loved you." 

My heart shattered again, right then and there. I could feel every piece, this time, as it broke and pierced my soul. I gritted my teeth to stifle a scream, I couldn't scream with him there. It was bad enough I was being weak in front of him. I couldn't be helpless as well. 

" Percy, this will hurt for a while-" 

I cut him off. " Damn you, Oliver, you don't know!" 

" I know," he answered calmly. " I've been there." 

" But you didn't love _her_," I hissed. " You've never loved Penelope the way I did, the way I do." I clenched my fists tightly. My blood turned cold. 

" Maybe not," he said, more angrily now," but I've loved just as deeply, just as much." 

He did. Of course. Perfect Oliver, captain of the Quidditch team, perfect jock, the eye of every girl living! He had Angelina, and they made the perfect pair! 

" I don't understand you," I snarled. " I can't believe you've been oblivious to all this!" 

He stopped walking. " What?" 

" The world, it's changing! The whole fucking, wretched world! Everyone I know are people I used to know! They're different! I don't know them anymore, not a single soul in this damned existence! And you, you with your perfect life and perfect girl, you didn't know! You didn't care!" The tears fell heavily, now. My entire body shook violently. 

" Things change, Percy," he told me firmly, " but let me tell you I have not once ignored you. Not once since I met you have I looked away and disregarded you. It was you who withdrew from me, and I had to hide behind a title I didn't deserve!" 

My breath came fast, my frozen blood boiled. With a clenched fist I wheeled around, let my fist fly, hit him in the jaw. He staggered back, hit the lockers, shock sprawled across his face. 

" You deserved it all," I growled. " You, _you_, deserved the title they gave you! It all came to you so easily! Life sits in your hands, you mold your life, you can do what you want! But don't you dare tell me you never ignored me. Every day I saw you, loving Angelina, being perfect, being loved by every wizard in the fucking school! It was all you, and suddenly I wasn't good enough for you anymore!" 

He stepped forward, took me by my shoulders roughly. " You don't know, Percy. You don't know anything." 

" I know what it is to have your hreat broken!" 

" So do I!" he snapped. 

I pulled away from him, turned away. I had to get out of there, I had no idea why I ever wanted him to stay with me. Damn myself, damn myself! I began to run, run to the winter that waited to embrace me, engulf me. Winter could take my life but it could never hurt me. 

" Percy?" His voice trembled. " Percy!" 

I ran through the locker room doors, out onto the Quidditch field. The wind had picked up, snow burned my face. The tears flew from me in the wind, turned to ice and hit the ground. My heart was in them. 

" Percy!" 

No, I could believe he was following me. The stupid, fucking bastard! Liar, that's what he was! He never knew, never understood! 

I exited the stadium, ran through knee-deep snow. My lungs burned, what was left of my heart pounded in my chest. I wasn't in shape, not like Oliver, who always had everything. Strength, health, love, he had it all! Took it from me, took it for himself, he had it all! 

Two hands grabbed me by my shoulders, spun me around, forced me into the snow. I could hear his breathing, loud, in my ears. 

" Maybe I didn't know, Percy," he panted over the wind, " but all you had to do was tell me." 

I screamed, brought my fist into his gut. He grunted and I rolled away, scrambled to stand. Snow found its way into my robes, melted against my skin. Cold, so cold, it was all cold! Everything was cold, the whole world! 

And Oliver. 

He grabbed me again, shoved me into snow and ice. One hand kept mine behind my back, the other kept my face in the snow. 

" I don't know what's wrong with you!" he yelled. He lifted my head up, rolled my onto my back. " Just let me help!" 

Help? He was beating me, freezing me! 

" Bitch!" I screamed. He was sitting on me, and with my knee I nailed him between his legs. He stiffened with pain, long enough for me to bring my fist to his chin and sock him off him. I jumped up, landed on him, took a swing at his nose, hit him square. Anger pushing me, I rolled him over, put his face in the snow. Let him freeze, let the bastard freeze! 

He writhed, his elbow caught my rib. Gasping, he surfaced from the snow, and as I threw myself upon him again, he brought his foot into my side, kicked me away from him. I rolled, choked, and he caught me again, pulled me to my feet. 

" Damn you, Percy," he whispered. I could just see the tears through the snow. " Why?" 

I couldn't answer him. There was no answer in me, nothing but the pain and tears. 

He wiped blood from his now crooked nose. " Please, Percy, let me help you." 

I had never seen him cry before. Now here he was, crying and bleeding and pleading. 

" I can't see, Oliver," I mumbled. 

" I know." He wrapped his arms around me, let me fall into him. I sobbed relentlessly into his shoulder, gripped him as if I would fall if he let me go. " I know." 

It was then that I realized that I was the one who had ignored our friendship. Me, not him, and in my denial, I blamed him. I blamed every one of my mistakes on him. And slowly, slowly, I felt my heart begin to rebuild itself, as Oliver sank to his knees under my weight, holding me and whispering to me through the cold.   
  
  


A/N: An odd way to end it, I know, and _no_, I will not be continuing this with other chapters, because this is not a chapter story. I know it's a little rushed at the end, or at least, I think so. Please review. 


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